Black Band
by cluelessdrarry
Summary: After feeling completely abandoned by his supposed friends, Harry is whisked away and shown a better life by the least likely person (Grey!Harry Weasley and Dumbles Bashing and Bodyart!Harry
1. Chapter 1

**Hey! I'm C and, as my name suggests I'm clueless. In that I'm clueless when I start writing where it'll go, how long it'll be and how often I'll write the next chapter. I write as an attempt to fend off my depression, that's the theory anyway. So I'll be around. If you like what I write then let me know! If I can make someone smile that'll make me happy. So here we go.**

 **I'm thinking this is going to be Voldemort/Harry. Probably M rated, I usually put part of myself in my characters so Harry's mind may go to dark places, he may have some experiences. I'll trigger warning when I know specifically.**

 **Disclaimer: If you recognise it it isn't mine**

 **Black Band Chapter 1**

He glanced at the clock, 01:27. The Dursley's would be asleep by now, so it was safe to be a make a little noise, not too much of course, if they were to wake up, he would be in indescribable amounts of trouble. Harry leant over his bed to where a small cardboard box was hidden just tucked underneath the bed, in the box he had some of Aunt Petunia's sewing needles, not that she had noticed them as she had made Harry do all the sewing of ripped clothes since his return from his 4th year at Hogwarts. Since he had gotten back Harry had been locked in his room made to do menial work such as repairing clothes and, if she was feeling particularly 'kind' she'd let him down to cook and do the garden. Also hidden in the box was several vials of black ink that the Weasley twins had gotten him for his birthday. Harry had spent a lot of time with the twins this past year, especially since the argument with Ron that Harry hadn't quite forgiven yet, the fact Ron hadn't written to him all summer was making it harder and harder to forgive him each day. The Weasley twins wrote to him about once a week, when they could. It turned out Dumbledore was keeping the Weasleys and Hermione at 12 Grimmauld place with the so-called Order of the Phoenix and had them under strict orders not to communicate with anyone out of The Order. However, Fred and George had written to him in secret. They knew that Harry was struggling to cope with the loss of Cedric so that had been writing to Harry as often as they could and telling him about what was going on. Harry was exceptionally grateful.

Harry sat the box on his bed, if you could call it that, and pulled out a needle and a vial of the black ink. He opened the vial and put it on the small bedside table where he kept his glasses when he slept, then dipped the needle in the ink and slowly began to poke at his skin. He was working to make a black band around his right wrist. Harry had been doing stick n poke tattoos like this all summer, the pain and marking of his skin helping him cope with his overwhelming emotions. Helping to block out the pain and rage he felt from the torment of his so-called family, helping to block out the pain of the abandonment of his friends, helping to block out the guilt from the death of Cedric, blocking out the frustration at the fickleness of the wizarding world. If this was what the light subjected him to, him being the hero one moment and the villain the next, only to lead him to his death in the end, were they worth fighting for? This last thought had been plaguing Harry for a while now, was the light side worth what they had been putting him through, he found it dark and twisted, if the so-called light side was like this then was the dark side truly dark? Guilt rushed through him as he remembered the way Cedric had died. He contemplated having the word monster written across him when thoughts like this in the early hours of the morning.

He continued to mull over this as he poked at his skin. His wrist was dully throbbing as the band was slowly formed, so far, he had a black ring on each finger of each hand minus his thumbs. He had a DNA coil going up his middle finger so that in a way he had his mother and father with him. He also had a small C on the top of his shoulder, so he could remember his friend and carry him with him. He had a snake wrapped around his left thumb for his ability as a parselmouth and for his inner Slytherin. He didn't have a reason for his black band yet, but he'd think of one eventually.

His thoughts returned to the Order of the Phoenix and the twins. He felt a growing resentment as he thought of his apparent best friends being in the know about everything and being able to be with his godfather, Sirius, when he was stuck with Dursley's because of some apparent blood wards. But really what was safer? A house under the fidelius charm with an ex Auror who was one of the best in his day or being in a house full of people who would rather see him dead. Harry sighed as he finished the band around his wrist. It was almost 2AM now, and his wrist was sufficiently burning away his pain. Why would Dumbledore be hiding things from him? Why would his friends hide things from him? Harry resolved to writing to Fred and George again in the morning, it had been almost a week since they last spoke. It was now early august and the last he had heard from the twins it had been his birthday. That's when they had sent Harry the ink. He had been speaking to them about his interest in body art throughout the last year and hence they had gotten the ink for him to use. Harry was seriously reconsidering who his real friends were because instead of ignoring the abuse Harry suffered from the Dursleys Fred and George had listened and promised that they would support him no matter what and try and help. Of course, they couldn't do much against Dumbledore but the act of trying was good enough for Harry.

He put his needle and ink away in the box and took out the cleaning products he needed to make sure that the tattoo didn't become infected. After quickly cleaning the new band Harry stashed them away too and hid the box back under his bed. He lay down, arm dangling over the edge of the bed, reluctantly trying to fall asleep. He didn't want to sleep and face the nightmare of Cedric's death but he didn't have a choice. Harry was asleep by 3AM and didn't notice the dark figure appear in the corner of his room.


	2. Black Band Chapter 2

**Black Band Chapter 2**

 **Hello again, I hope that you have enjoyed what I've written so far and its captured your interest. Anything you recognise most likely doesn't belong to me. I've already got someone following this and honestly that has made me really happy so thank you! And thank you Laurie24 for following, favouriting and reviewing! Oh my there's loads of you! Im checking as I write and honestly each favourite, follow and review makes me so happy thank you all so much!**

It was August 13th, and the relentless heat had not let up. Harry had been adding to adding to his band for a week now and it was about two centimetres thick now. It was safe to say the Dursleys were not impressed with Harry's new hobby as it made him more freakish than he normally was. But as tattooing was permanent and she refused to step foot in Harry's room lest she get contaminated with 'freak' she couldn't do anything. That only made Harry tattoo himself more, not only did he find it therapeutic but if it would annoy the Dursleys that was just a bonus.

Harry did have a suspicion that Petunia had been in his room looking for his ink as things in the left corner of his room there had been small, almost unnoticeable, mark on the carpet and Hedwig's cage had been moved slightly, leaving a small mark on the wood of the shelf. He tried to rationalise to himself that it Petunia had been looking for his ink or Dudley had come into the room with the intent to break things. However, if either of those were the case then why had nothing else in the room been touched? Why had the old paper in the corner of the door trick not shown any signs of anyone entering his room or even opening the door those past few days. The only conclusions Harry could reach was that he was being paranoid, or someone was coming into his room at night.

The latter thought unnerved him. Who would come into his room at night? He could hear the two whales of the family snoring a mile away and Petunia was out of the question as the flaw boards just outside his door loudly squeaked when anyone walked on them. He would've heard Petunia coming. So that could only mean that someone was not using the front as a method of getting in, and as Voldemort had returned Harry had made sure to sleep with his window shut no matter how hot it was. He was reckless, not stupid.

It meant someone was using magic to get into his room, so that day Harry had snuck his wand out of the cupboard so when night fell, he could confront the mysterious person… if it was even a person who was coming into his room. He just prayed it wasn't another Dobby incident, he wasn't prepared to deal with that again.

He looked at his clock, it was 02:30 and he was starting to feel a little drowsy. He would usually end up falling asleep at 3AM so his plan was to feign sleep just before three and wait and see if the mystery thing would appear in his room and he could either fight it, confront it or hope it didn't attack him and win. Harry continued to poke at his wrist, making his black band a little bigger. He hoped to have it an inch thick within the next week so, then he might start on his new project, he didn't have a reason for the band still but it looked good enough. He focused on the band until his clock showed that It was 02:53. The young Gryffindor quickly stashed away his supplies after hurriedly cleaning his wrist. He lay in his bed, arm slightly obscuring his face so he would be able to see if anyone came into his room however they wouldn't be able to see his eyes as part of his arm not only covered his eyes but also provided a shadow to cover them well.

Harry counted down the seconds, his clock showed 02:59 and he was hoping that whatever it was coming into his room was at least punctual with his predictions. He was right, as soon as the clock turned to 03:00 there was a silent pop, so silent Harry would've missed it had he not been listening for that or something like it. His eyes raked over the new figure in his room and widened to an almost comical size, well it would've been comical had it of been anyone else now in his room.

 **Unknown POV**

He didn't know why he was doing this again. The infuriating boy that had ruined all of his plans, the infuriating boy who should've died, the infuriating boy who he regretted not just throwing out of a window that fateful All Hallows Eve. Why was he keeping the boy alive? Why was he going to visit said boy every night? Obviously, he knew the answer to that, he was no fool and contradictory to popular belief, he did have a soul… it was just a bit… split…

What a lot of people didn't know about him was that his whole objective was not to kill all mudbloods, no, it was actually to equalize dark magic to light magic and make it so magical children were treated better, especially those with muggle parents. He had promised himself when he had first begun his crusade and The Knights of Walpurgis was that he would never leave a magical child in a place where they were mistreated because of their magic. And he was a man of his word, no matter the child. This person was not only his Horcrux but his worst enemy. Lord Voldemort had been observing the muggles that Harry Potter had been abandoned to and he had watched with steadily building rage as he saw how they treated him and how young Harry had been using the black ink to cope. But tonight he was going to take Potter with him, the young boy had no choice. Lord Voldemort had also seen Potter places traps in his door and becoming suspicious, the Dark Lord's time was up and tonight he would take Harry Potter.

Since the discovery of Potter's treatment at the hands of the muggles, the Dark Lord had been hunting down his horcruxes and re-joining his soul pieces. Now the only other soul piece was in the young Gryffindor, ensuring that he would live. And he couldn't die until the soul piece in Potter was destroyed and similarly Potter couldn't die as long as the soul piece was in him. Maybe if he were to take Potter from those sad excuses for people he would be able to sway Potter to his side, that way he would have a powerful ally who would also insure his immortality… if Potter wouldn't be swayed to his side then he was sure that he had a nice dungeon could reside in until he saw reason. Either way, it was 02:58, Voldemort ready himself to leave for Potter's place of residence. The sooner this was over the better in his opinion.


End file.
